


retirement

by ladydetective



Category: Book of the Ancestor Series - Mark Lawrence
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28640049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydetective/pseuds/ladydetective
Summary: Kettle finds being away from Apple and Lily hard.or, Two distinct events prompt Kettle to reconsider her life as a Grey and consider whether or not it's time to move on.
Relationships: Sister Apple/Sister Kettle (Book of the Ancestor)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	retirement

**Author's Note:**

> i did not intend for this to be my longest fic but here we are lmao. 
> 
> this has two distinct sections - lily is eleven months old in the first section, and around two in the second.

Apple was grading papers at her desk, tutting at the idiocy of novices.  _ Honestly _ , who confused kalewort and knotgrass? Half of her Grey Class, apparently. She kept an eye trained on Lily as the eleven month old played with her toys at her feet. The toddler had recently taken to pulling herself up on her wobbly little legs in attempts to stand - this was all well and good, but it did mean she fell over a lot, which of course resulted in tears. 

She was doing her best to keep her mind occupied, because Kettle was away on a mission - her first since Lily came to live with them. She’d been on day trips here and there, but nothing that would require her to leave Sweet Mercy for anything more than a handful of days at a time. Apple, with Kettle’s agreement, had been avoiding sending her on anything more strenuous for their daughters’ sake - but with tensions in Abeth once again rising, she could no longer justify  _ not  _ sending out her best Grey. Kettle was simply better qualified and had more experience than any of her other agents. 

She missed her - she always did, whenever she was away. Apple loved Kettle more than anything else in the world - apart from, perhaps, Lily - and she  _ hated _ being separated from her. It was, however, an unavoidable part of their jobs. The separation had been hard to deal with in the before-times when it was just the two of them, but now that they had a child together, it was proving even more difficult. Lily missed her mama almost as much as Apple herself did - Kettle would take her whenever Apple had class or other Grey work that required her attention, as well as do her share of night-time feeding. Doing all of this herself was proving quite the challenge. 

Admittedly, Ara and Nona helped. The two younger nuns adored Lily and treated her almost like a niece. A lot of the time, they’d take her whenever she had a class to teach - but this wasn’t always possible. As a result, she’d sometimes had to bring Lily with her while she taught - the addition of an adorable toddler to lessons dented her otherwise fear-inducing persona as the Poisoner. She’d had to double down on poisonings in the next class to protect her reputation. 

Movement out of the corner of her eyes caused her to put down her quill and give her full attention to Lily. The little girl had once again managed to pull herself up into a standing position. Apple sat down on the floor with her, ready to pick her up when the inevitable happened. She didn’t fall, however - she put one wobbly little leg in front of the other and took tentative first steps. She made it three or four paces before collapsing into her mother’s arms, chubby face alight with giggles. 

Apple blinked, not quite able to believe her eyes - her baby had just  _ walked _ . It seemed like only yesterday that she’d been a tiny, abandoned bundle at the Convent’s doorstep - now she was  _ walking _ . She smiled encouragingly at the toddler in her arms and pressed a fond kiss to her cheek. “Well done, Lily! Do you think you can do that again for mama?”

She set the child on her feet and waited with her arms outstretched. “Come on baby,” she said, voice patient yet excited, “Walk over to mama.”

Lily repeated the feat, an oddly determined look on her face. She was shaky, but still made it. Apple grinned at the little girl, almost deliriously happy. It wasn’t a fluke! Her baby was starting to learn how to walk! She pressed a volley of kisses to her face, which made the toddler laugh.

Apple turned around to share this moment with Kettle, before remembering - Kettle wasn’t there. She was still on her mission, and not due back for at least a week, if not more. She’d missed their baby’s first steps - it was possible she’d be walking more confidently by the time the other woman returned. Apple knew this information would  _ crush _ her partner - she’d been there every step of the way so far, and she’d hate to miss something so important.

There wasn’t really a way for Apple to share this moment with her. Their shadowbond was uncommonly strong, but at this distance the transmission of anything other than vague feelings or pulses would be impossible. It didn’t work the same way that threadbonding did.

Wait. Threadbonding. Kettle and Nona were thread-bound - they had been for years. Perhaps...perhaps she could get Lily to walk in front of Nona, who then in turn could relay the image to Kettle. It wasn’t the same as being here in person, but it was something. 

Without giving the matter any further thought, Apple scooped up Lily and left in search of Nona Grey. It didn’t take long to find her - the young Mistress Blade was teaching a class in Blade Hall. She stood at the door, momentarily debating whether or not to interrupt the lesson. She didn’t like it whenever anyone disturbed her when teaching, but - this was important. She was sure the other woman would understand. 

She knocked on the door and waited for a response before sticking her head in. “Mistress Blade?” she asked, her voice cool. It was important to maintain her persona around the novices. “May I borrow you for a few moments?”

Nona raised a curious eyebrow, but nodded. “Of course, Mistress Shade.” She turned to her class. “Practice on the dummies while I’m away. No weapons - bare hands only. Anyone who disobeys that rule will get their head shaved, and worse.”

Apple waited until the door was safely shut before smirking at her former student. “My, my - how the tables have turned. You’ll be poisoning latecomers, next.”

Nona laughed and returned her smile. “Nah. I demonstrate whatever I’m teaching on the latecomers. They’re rarely late again.” The younger woman was settling in well to her role as Mistress Blade - it was a struggle at first because she was barely older than some of the novices she was teaching, but she soon brought them into line. No doubt, her reputation as the nun who moved the moon helped with their perception of her. Apple assisted her in devising lesson plans, and she knew Nona took a great deal of inspiration from her old Blade classes with Tallow. A pang went through her at the thought of the other woman - even two years after the battle, she still missed her friend greatly. The Convent wasn’t quite the same without her in it. 

“So,” said Nona, pinching Lily’s cheek in an affectionate manner, “What is it you wanted to talk to me about? I really shouldn’t leave them unsupervised for too long.”

“Lily walked for me earlier -”

“Really? That’s great!” said Nona, her voice enthusiastic. She’d been wary around the baby at first, but they’d become close overtime. Lily positively adored her - cool auntie Nona could do no wrong, in her eyes. “Do you think she’d do it for me?”

“Well, that's what I wanted to talk about. Kettle will hate to have missed this - I was wondering if you could get in contact with her through the threadbond and show her through your eyes. 

“I guess we can try. Let me just go tell this lot to practice Blade Path.”

* * *

Kettle surveyed her surroundings intently, making sure she made no mistakes. She was rusty - Shadework was an artform in its own right, and like any art it required regular practice. She’d done her best to keep in shape while at Sweet Mercy, but it was no true substitute for proper action. 

It was a long time since she’d been in the field like this - since they adopted Lily, she’d mostly been doing missions that didn’t require much travel and could be completed within a day. Even before that, she hadn’t been on many - she’d come  _ so _ close to losing Apple in the battle, and so couldn’t bear being away from her for very long. She knew the fear was mostly irrational - Kettle herself was in far more danger on a mission than Apple was whilst safely ensconced in the Convent - but she’d left her that awful night and she’d almost  _ died _ . She could not let that happen again. 

And then, there was Lily. The little girl had taken them all by surprise - she never thought she’d become a mother. Living in a Convent sort of precluded the notion. But still - she had, and both she and Apple loved their daughter more than anything else on Abeth. Leaving that smiling little face had been just as hard as leaving Apple - perhaps even more so. Lily was learning and growing more and more every day, and Kettle  _ hated _ the idea of missing any of that. 

But still - she had work to do. The Church of the Ancestor had many enemies, and she was needed to dispense with them. It was her Holy Calling - the only way she could serve Him, as steeped in Shadow as she was. Few at the Convent possessed her experience, and none shared her particular skillset. She was His hand in the night, his cloak in the shadows. As much as her heart yearned to be back at Sweet Mercy with her family, she would see this work done. 

As she observed the habits of her target, compiling a mental itinerary and plotting when best to strike the final blow, she felt an insistent  _ tug _ on her threadbond. She ignored it - Nona was at the Convent, it was unlikely she was in any danger. She needed to keep her mind wholly her own and focused on the mission. 

Another tug. Kettle barely concealed a sign of irritation. Nona could be persistent and would likely not stop until she answered her - it was like having a sister. A younger,  _ annoying _ sister. She cloaked herself in the Shadows, making herself invisible to passers by, before responding. 

“What?” Kettle asked, her voice snappish. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

She couldn’t see Nona’s eyes but she was sure the other woman was rolling them. “Just look,” she said, “You’ll be sorry if you don’t.”

Curiosity piqued, Kettle allowed herself to fall further along the threadbond until she was staring through the other woman’s eyes. She was just outside of Blade Hall, Apple and Lily in front of her. Something warm and fuzzy spread through her at the sight of her partner and daughter. It had already been two weeks since she set off on this assignment, and she missed them dreadfully. Apple hadn’t taken to motherhood as quickly as she had - whereas Kettle had almost immediately been overwhelmed with love for the little girl, it was something that crept up on her lover more slowly. Looking at them now, though, it was impossible to deny her feelings. 

Lily was standing up - the sight was not totally unfamiliar to Kettle as she’d just been starting to when she left, but it still filled her with pride. Apple knelt a few feet away from her, arms outstretched. “Can you walk to mama?” she asked, in the voice she reserved for Lily. It was softer than the way she spoke to anyone else, without a trace of the fearsome persona she used to intimidate novices. “Show Auntie Nona how you walked for me earlier.”

To Kettle’s astonishment, Lily closed the gap between the two of them on unsteady little legs. She fell into her mother’s arms and giggled at the volley of affection that was heaped on her. Nona, having - presumably - never seen this before, cheered and applauded raucously. Kettle could feel her excitement, but was too overwhelmed by her own maelstrom of emotions to participate in it. 

Lily was  _ walking _ . Her baby had taken her first steps, and she had  _ missed _ it. She’d been there for everything, until this point - first smile, first time sitting up, first word - missing something so important was devastating. She was  _ devastated _ . She wanted to be there, to take her little girl in her arms and join Apple in smothering her with kisses. Instead, she was here - stalking yet another mark for what must have been her hundredth mission. How much more would she miss if she continued to be away for weeks at a time? Would she miss birthdays, her first day at school? But then, what alternative was there? They’d lost so many Greys at the battle, and the new recruits wouldn’t be experienced enough for the bigger missions for some time yet. And then even if she did retire, would she be happy as a Holy? Kettle was unsure - part of her liked the danger her Shadework provided. 

At least she’d been able to witness Lily’s early attempts at walking, even if it was through the threadbond. She would have missed it entirely, otherwise. She was proud of her little girl, make no mistake - it was just...unfortunate she didn’t get to be there for it. One of her own tears fell down Nona’s cheek.

“You okay?” probed Nona through the threadbond. 

Kettle stirred, almost forgetting they were still connected. “Yeah,” she said roughly, “yeah. It’s just… a lot. I didn’t expect to see her walk for the first time this way.”

Alarm spiked through Nona’s body - Kettle could feel it through the bond. “You’re not angry we showed you this way, are you? We thought you’d want to see it.”

“No, no. I’m glad you did. I just wish I was there, watching it for myself. I miss her a lot. I miss them  _ both _ a lot.”

“Well, everything’s good here. There’s nothing to worry about - we’re all safe.” Nona knew a thing or two about some of the worries Kettle had - the bond made her privy to some of the crippling nightmares she’d had after the battle. 

Kettle was dimly aware that she couldn’t spend too long away from her body - she was not in friendly territory, and discovery could prove fatal. She took a last, lingering look through Nona’s eyes, soaking in the image of Apple and Lily playing together. “Look,” she said, finally. “I have to go. But thank you for showing me this. And - tell them both I love them, a lot.”

Nona muttered her agreement, and Kettle wrenched herself out of her friend’s body. She felt drained, both emotionally and physically - assignments always asked a lot of her body, and the past few minutes were a whirlwind of feeling. She wanted to be back at the Convent desperately - it was like an ache, so acute it was almost physical. She wanted to hold Apple, to kiss their daughter goodnight. She was not sure how much longer she’d be able to do this. 

Kettle readjusted her stance, preparing herself to make a move. The only way she’d get back to Sweet Mercy quickly was by ensuring she completed this mission. She had people waiting for her. 

* * *

Nona ate her dinner contentedly, seated at the high table with the other nuns. It had been three years since the battle, and food supplies were finally back to how she remembered them being as a novice. Sometimes she felt like she should be sitting down there with them - of her Sisters, she was still one of the youngest - but she was not without friends. Jula sat to her right and Apple to her left, Lily on her mother’s lap. The almost-two-year-old was eating her meal with a gusto that Nona approved of - she ran everyone ragged during the day, creating her own personal brand of chaos, but was generally quite quiet and well-behaved when food was being served. 

Nona stuck her tongue out at the toddler before settling back down and taking a bite of her chicken. All was normal - until she felt an urgent tug on her threadbond. She slipped into Kettle’s mind, anxiety spiking - the other woman almost never contacted her when she was on missions unless it was some kind of emergency. Nona would sometimes share snippets of things Lily was doing in order to help with the loneliness, but it was rarely reciprocal. 

She was in a clearing, surrounded on all sides by dense woodland. Four men were bearing down upon her, and a fifth stood in the distance. Nona noticed with a jolt of panic that he wore the robes of a quantal path-mage. Kettle may, just about, be able to deal with the four armed assailants - though it would be a near thing, because they all looked just as fast as she was - but she wouldn’t be able to contest the path-mage. 

“Give me full control,” said Nona urgently, “They’ve got a quantal.”

Kettle glanced his way and cursed, nodding. “Do your worst,” she said, before ceding control of her body to Nona. 

Nona commanded her flaw-blades to appear at the tips of Kettle’s fingers and slashed wildly at the nearest figure. He dodged, but only partially - blood erupted from a wound at his throat. It was not fatal, but the panic it would cause may buy her a few moments of distraction. She charged towards the path-mage, hurtling herself onto the path. It had been some time since she’d done this - she had little need for path-magics at Sweet Mercy - but her well of rage was as potent as ever. The knowledge that her friend would not survive this encounter if she failed was enough to fill her with white-hot fury and spur her on - she would not let that happen. 

The mage seemed surprised to meet her on the path. His brow furrowed. “We were not aware you possessed the ability to harness the energies of the path. We thought you were merely a hunska.”

He did not realise Nona was in control of Kettle’s body - more fool him. She grinned - it was an expression more feral than anything that typically crossed Kettle’s mouth. “There’s nothing  _ just  _ about being a hunska. This hunska is going to make you rue the day you were born.”

She marshalled her energy, preparing to throw him from the Path. With no small degree of alarm, however, she realised that this was not coming as easily to her as merely reaching the Path had. She’d only done this once before, at the battle of Verity. She’d been barely a mile away from the shipheart then - and while Nona was near it now, Kettle was not. She’d thought that her own proximity to the magic source would be enough.

She’d been wrong. She could barely muster more than a few steps, and could do little more than watch as the mage positively  _ sauntered _ over to her. He grinned at her, arrogance written in the expression. “I don’t know what charlatan’s trick you used to join me here, but it has clearly reached its limits. You’re going to die.” 

He shoved her off the path, and Kettle came hurtling down to the ground with the force of an explosion. Nona felt pain explode across her body at the impact. It was like the Harm all those years ago - only worse, because she knew that it was her friend being hurt. 

The man exited the Path with more grace, infuriating smirk still on his face. Nona scrambled to get up and face him, but she couldn’t - she was in too much pain. She wasn’t used to coming off the worse for wear in path-duels, and Kettle wasn’t used to having them at all. He pulled her hair in a sharp tug, forcing her head back so she was looking him in the eye. He removed a dagger from his waist. 

“A pity,” he said, “I’d expected more of you. You’re talked about with fear in all corners of the Empire, you know. The Shadow of Sweet Mercy. My employer thought you’d put up more of a fight than this. Alas. I must leave you now - places to go, people to see.” He raised the dagger and stabbed her, right in the stomach. Kettle was barely conscious, but Nona felt the impact keenly. It paled in comparison to the pain from her failed path-duel, but she knew the wound was ultimately more dangerous. “You’ll bleed out in a matter of hours - alone, with no one to save you. No Sweet Mercy to be found here, I’m afraid.”

He said something to the remaining guards, and they all departed - leaving Kettle lying alone on the ground, blood oozing from the wound. “I’m coming for you,” Nona said fiercely, “Don’t you give up. I’m coming.” 

It was the last thing she said to the other woman before she fell unconscious, effectively evicting her from her mind. Nona blinked, finding herself back in the Sweet Mercy refectory. Everyone was carrying on around her as if nothing had happened - novices were laughing together, nuns chatted amiably as they enjoyed their food. 

Nona stood with a start, chair tipping over with the force of her movement. She turned to Apple, who was looking at her with a curious expression. “Is everything alri-”

“Kettle’s in trouble,” she said, urgently. “We need to help her.”

  
Apple’s face paled. “W-what?” she asked, a tremor in her voice, “How do you know this? How bad is it?”

“The bond. It’s bad - she was thrown from the path and took a knife wound.”

“We need to go to her. How far away is she?”

“Far, but if I take the Shipheart I can get there quickly.”

Apple nodded, standing up. “I’ll go with you - the Abbess will let us take it if we explain the situation -”

The other woman was interrupted by Lily, who’d been rudely evicted from her perch on her mother’s lap as she stood up. “Mama hurt?” she asked, lip quivering. The beginnings of tears were forming in her eyes. 

Nona blinked, startled. She’d forgotten that Lily was here. Judging by the expression on Apple’s face, she had too. The note of vulnerability in the toddler’s voice was heartbreaking. 

Her former teacher scooped her daughter up in her arms. “She might be,” she said, her tone as comforting as she could manage under the circumstances, “But me and Auntie Nona are going to go and get her back, okay?” She smoothed a strand of dark, curling hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. “I want you to be a good girl for Auntie Ara, and we’ll be back  _ with  _ mama before you know it. One, maybe two sleeps at most.”

The little girl tightened her hold on Apple and began to cry in earnest. “No!!!” she wailed, “Mama no go! Mama stay here! Mama no leave me!”

Nona had never heard Lily say so many words consecutively before. The toddler was building up a fairly sizeable vocabulary - Nona was making it her personal mission to teach her as many swear words as possible - but she rarely strung them together into sentences. To hear her do so now and sound so distressed while she did it broke Nona’s heart. She could see it was having a similar effect on Apple. 

The red-headed nun looked to Nona, then back to her daughter. Conflict was written plainly on her face. She wrapped her arms yet more tightly around the little girl and pressed another kiss to her forehead. “No,” she said, finally. “Mama won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right here with you.”

“Are you sure?” asked Nona. Part of her was surprised - there was a time when nothing in the world could have stopped Apple from rushing to Kettle’s side when she was injured. But then again - Lily had changed them all, and none moreso than her mothers. 

“No,” she said, her voice faint. “I want to go and find Kettle more than anything in the world. The  _ thought  _ of something happening to her while I’m stuck here -” she closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “But Lily  _ needs _ me, and I won’t abandon her.”

Nona nodded, accepting. “I’m going to grab the shipheart and some weapons. Try get her down for a nap or something, then meet me at the entrance to the Convent. I’ve got a plan - there might be a way you can help.”

* * *

Apple paced as she waited for Nona at the Convent’s entrance. The force of her movement ran the risk of wearing a hole in the floor - she’d  _ tried _ to enter the patience trance she was normally so proficient at, but patience was beyond her at the moment. 

Kettle was out there, injured and alone. Apple wanted to be at her side more than anything - to save her, or at the very least to hold her hand as she left this world and entered the next. The thought of her bleeding out without anyone at her side was more than she could bear. 

She’d been ready to go as soon as Nona broke the news - but Lily’s desperate pleas stopped her. Her little girl had been so genuinely distraught at the prospect of both of her mothers leaving that she’d cried herself hoarse. She was usually as capricious as any toddler, but Apple didn’t think she’d ever seen her so upset. It broke her heart - she couldn’t leave her like this. 

She knew that if Kettle made it back to them in one piece - which Apple  _ had _ to believe she would, for her own sanity - then she’d agree she’d made the right decision. Kettle’s own mother had left her as a child, never to return, and it was a scar that lingered even now. She didn’t want their daughter to ever feel that. 

Nona sprinted into the room, shipheart in her hand and an armory’s worth of weapons on her person. 

“Are you ready?” asked Apple, a note of urgency in her voice. 

Nona nodded. “Did you get Lily down alright?

“She went to sleep pretty quickly, the hysterics tired her out. What’s this plan of yours?”

“I’m going to use the shipheart rings to get to where she is, then I’ll bring her back here for Rosie to see to.” Her face was determined. She’d bring Kettle home, or she’d die trying. Not for the first time, Apple was extraordinarily grateful for the bond between Nona and her lover. It had saved her life more than once. Sister Cage was a formidable force, and she didn’t take any of her friendships lightly. 

“Earlier, you said I could help. How can I do that?” Even if she could not go with Nona, she needed to do something to help Kettle. She’d go out of her mind with worry, otherwise.

“You can. I’m going to thread bond us - we’re both marjals, it should work. You can look through my eyes and see what going on, and if,” she swallowed, “If the wound is as bad as it looks, I’ll call on you and you can heal her.”

This was better than she could have hoped for. Short of actually going with Nona, it was as involved as she could be. “Right,” she said, “How do we go about doing it?”

“Close your eyes, and trust me.”

Apple’s eyes had barely fluttered shut before Nona Grey’s arms were wrapped around her in a firm hug. She returned the gesture instinctively, appreciating the comfort it offered. The last hour had been a tough one, and she knew it would continue to be so until Kettle was back where she belonged. She and Nona had come a long way from where they’d started - in the years since the younger woman took her vows, Apple had stopped thinking of her as a student and started thinking of her as a friend. They weren’t as close as Nona and Kettle were, but they were getting there. Apple loved her, and she didn’t love many. 

The younger woman pulled away. “Can you feel it?”

A presence stirred in the back of her mind - like a shadow-bond, but different. Stronger. “Extraordinary…” she breathed. She’d studied quantal thread-bonds, but never thought she would experience one. 

“I’ll contact you if I need you,” said Nona, “And feel free to watch what I’m doing if you want to.”

Apple nodded. “Nona - thank you. Be safe, and please-” her lip trembled, “Bring her back to me.”

* * *

Nona made her way through the woods, thinking of nothing but how best she could save her friend. Kettle’s wounds had looked _ bad _ when she witnessed the fight well over an hour ago - Ancestor only knew what kind of state she’d be in now. She knew the other woman wasn’t dead - she could still feel her through the threadbond, as weak as it now was. She used it to hone in on her location.

She was dimly aware that Apple was watching her every movement over their own newly-established bond. Nona hadn’t told her former teacher this, but she hadn’t been entirely confident it would work. Threadbonding required the presence of a significant affection between both participants. They’d become friends in the months and years since the battle, but a part of Nona worried that the other woman viewed her merely as a necessary presence. The knowledge that she cared enough about her for a bond to successfully form gave her no small amount of pleasure. Nona had had a crush on her as a novice, and while that had faded with time, her admiration never did. 

She could feel Apple’s deep anxiety now - it was distracting, but Nona could hardly blame her. She knew that if Ara was in the position that Kettle was in, she’d be out of her mind with worry. She needed to find the other woman, and fast. Nona was hardly relaxed herself. Kettle was like a sister to her - the closest thing she had ever had to one. She took care of her chosen family. 

Finally, she arrived at the clearing where her friend had fallen. There was no sign of her assailants - part of Nona wanted to hurt them for the fate they’d subjected Kettle to, but her common sense told her that she needed to focus all of her energies on helping her friend. She’d learned that hard lesson on Sherzal’s mountaintop all those years ago - there was no real proof that the flesh-bind she’d wasted on Thuran Tacsis would have saved Darla, but she would always wonder. Regardless, she’d learned her lesson - as much as she may want to, her desire for revenge was never worth risking her friend’s lives. 

Kettle was lying on the ground, unconscious. She’d made no effort to conceal herself - even when she had taken that Noi-Guin blade more than ten years ago, she’d managed to construct basic cover. That she failed to do so now spoke to how badly wounded she was. Fear entirely separate from Apple’s spiked through Nona. 

She kneeled to examine her friend’s injury. As, she’d seen over the bond, a knife jutted out of her stomach. She bore no signs of physical harm from the path-duel, but that was to be expected - if losing didn’t outright kill you, you would more than likely survive the failure. Nona went to carry her, but hesitated - moving her now could do more harm than good. The shipheart she carried would amplify marjal healing - but Nona had never been able to do so much as heal a papercut. She would need to call Apple. 

“I need you to fall deeper into the bond,” she said to the presence already in the back of her mind, “Then reach out and channel your power through my hands as if they were your own.”

Nona felt Apple take control of her body. It was a sensation she would never totally get used to - you merged completely with the other person. Their thoughts and feelings became your own as they dictated your movements, and you became a passive observer in your own body. She supposed it was the reason why you needed to love the person or persons you were bonded with - otherwise, it would feel like an intolerable invasion.

Her hands thrummed with a power that was not her own, amplified tenfold by the proximity of the shipheart. She placed them over Kettle’s wound and watched in near amazement as a strange golden energy poured out and stitched the wounded flesh together. 

Kettle’s eyes fluttered open and she gasped. Nona’s heart soared to see it, and she ceased her ministrations. She could not tell if the reaction was Apple’s or her own - perhaps both. 

“Appy,” she breathed. Her voice was hoarse. “Is that you?”

“Yes, my love,” said Apple from Nona’s mouth, “I’m here. Rest now - you’ll be home with us before you know it.”

* * *

Kettle’s eyes opened to the familiar sight of the Sweet Mercy sanatorium. Hot relief flooded her.  _ Thank the Ancestor _ , she thought. She’d truly believed that the sneering face of the path-mage would be the last thing she ever saw. Nona promised to help her, but Kettle hadn’t been able to see how that was possible. She’d been hundreds of miles away from the Convent, and her injury was severe.

She really should have learned by now not to doubt Nona Grey. 

She sat up, mentally bracing herself for the flare of pain that was sure to follow. Incredibly, there was almost nothing - the faintest throb, as if she’d merely banged into some furniture instead of taking a knife to the gut. 

“You’re awake!” said Apple from the seat beside her. Her face was red and blotchy from crying. Kettle's heart leapt at the sight of her - she’d been so sure she’d never see her again. “We weren’t sure you would - your injury looks a lot better, you can see that for yourself, but you were out for so long that we were worried that the path-duel might have inflicted some form of lasting harm.”

Kettle pulled up the shirt she was wearing and examined the wound - far from the gaping mess she’d expected, there was only a reddening scar. “Incredible…” she murmured. 

Apple exhaled audibly, taking a shaky breath. “When I saw you in that clearing...I thought you were dead.”

Kettle’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding her senses. Her memory of the time after the path-duel was hazy at best, but she could have sworn it was Nona who’d come for her - although something in her remembered calling Apple’s name. “You were there? I thought Nona saved me.”

“Not...exactly. Nona and I are threadbound now. She couldn’t risk moving you, so I healed you through her. It was...strange.” Her words were unusually flat, lacking her characteristic enthusiasm for new magicks. Kettle knew Apple - she knew that normally, her lover would be excited to the point of bursting at the prospect of discovering new facets of her power. Something must be deeply wrong now if she wasn’t. 

“Hey,” she said, sitting up fully despite the lingering pain. She took Apple’s hand. “Is everything okay?”

Apple sighed and closed her eyes. She opened them again after a moment and squeezed Kettle’s hand. “I just… I don’t know how many more times I can do this. The worry is killing me. I’ve always fretted over you when you were away, but it’s been worse, lately - since the battle,” she corrected, “I love you so much, and I can’t lose you. We’ve both come far too close to knowing what it’s like to lose one another. It’s not a pain I can bear.”

Kettle’s heart ached for her - she knew exactly how she felt. The terrible hours during the battle when she’d believed Apple to be dead were the very worst of her life. It was always harder to be the one left behind. She removed her hand from her lovers and pulled her into her arms instead. Apple fell into the embrace, letting out an exhausted sob. 

“We’ve been in this position too many times, haven’t we?” She asked, not really expecting an answer. She ran a hand through her hair in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. Kettle loved Apple’s hair, and Apple - despite her protestations - loved her playing with it. 

They stayed in that position for several minutes, Kettle simultaneously doing her best to offer comfort to her lover whilst thinking seriously about what the future held. It was clear they could not continue the way they had been doing - but did she really want to give up being a Grey? She’d spent years training for it, and more still gaining experience. She was the best Sweet Mercy had to offer. But was that enough anymore? Was it really worth the danger and anxiety? But what would she  _ do _ if she quit? The quiet life of a Holy Sister wouldn’t suit her, of that she was certain. She needed a purpose - something to keep her occupied whilst also serving the Ancestor. 

Then there was Lily to consider.  _ Lily _ . How had she fared while all of this was going on? Kettle pressed a gentle kiss to Apple’s forehead. “How’s Lily?” she asked softly. 

Apple pulled out of their embrace to face her. She already looked a little better. “She’s alright now. She wasn’t, when she first heard you were injured - she cried like I’d never seen before. It’s why I didn’t go to you in person - she needed me. She was beside herself at the prospect of both of us leaving.”

Kettle’s heart constricted at the thought of her baby so upset. She missed her little girl desperately when she was away and hated the thought of missing out on any milestones. It was crushing when she’d been on a mission for her first steps, almost a year ago now. She worried that she was doing damage to her by being away so often, and this all but confirmed it. 

“You did the right thing in staying. I’m glad at least one of us was here for her. But she’s okay now, right?” There was a desperate note to her voice and she looked to Apple imploringly. 

Apple squeezes her hand and smiles reassuringly. “She’s fine. She calmed down a lot when we told her you were back. She’s driving everyone demented, but is otherwise fine.”

Kettle relaxed marginally, some of the tension leaving her. “No different than usual, then.”

Apple laughed lightly. “No, no different. Do you want me to get her? She’s been dying to visit you, but I thought it might upset her to see you unconscious.”

Kettle nodded vehemently. The motion made her feel dizzy - as potent as the shipheart-enhanced healing was, it hadn’t cured her entirely. She’d probably feel out-of-sorts for a couple of days. “Please. I need to see for myself that she’s alright.”

“I’ll go and get her then.” She stood up and before leaving, pressed a gentle kiss to Kettle’s lips. It didn’t matter how many times they kissed in the more-than-fifteen years they’d been together - every one felt just as good as the first. Thank-the-Ancestor-you’re-not-dead kisses might just be her favourite variety, though. “I’m very glad you’re back.”

Kettle watched her leave the Sanatorium, mind weighed down with thoughts. What on Abeth was she going to do? 

Lily thundered into the room less than ten minutes later. She’d advanced rapidly since taking her first tentative steps almost a year ago and was now genuinely quite difficult to catch. Apple and Kettle agreed that she’d likely show hunska blood a few years down the line. Her chubby little arms were outstretched. 

“Mama!” she shouted, as she dove onto the bed. 

Kettle wrapped her arms around her little girl, soaking in her presence. It felt good to be able to do so again - she’d been sure, in that clearing, that she wouldn’t. 

“Lily!” scolded Apple as she re-entered the room, “I told you not to crowd your mother! She’s hurt her - she’s got a sore tummy, and she doesn’t need you jumping on it.”

The toddler showed little sign of having heard her mother - in fact, she tightened her hold. Kettle was startled to realise that she was shaking. “Lily,” she asked, her voice soft and laced with concern, “what’s the matter?”

“Mama hurt,” she said, barely above a whisper. 

Kettle’s heart constricted at the vulnerability in her daughter’s voice. She smoothed her hair and ran a finger down her cheek. “It’s okay. Mama’s okay,” she said, “Some bad men did hurt me, but your mother fixed me right up.” 

She shot a quick glance over to Apple, silently asking for help. Apple squeezed herself next to them in the bed and slung an arm around Kettle. She took one of Lily’s hands in her own and traced comforting patterns on it, but ultimately remained silent, allowing Kettle to finish. 

“Mama better now?” she asked, maneuvering her head to look her in the eyes. 

“I might need to stay in here for a day or two, but yes. I’m better now. Look,” she pulled up her shirt to show Lily the scar. “There’s no blood or anything. It’s like when you cut your knee and it starts to scab over. It means it’s getting better.”

Lily stares at the wound, her little face intent. It would be funny to see her thinking so deeply about something if not for the context - instead, though, all she wanted was for her daughter to be okay. 

After a beat and in a move that is decidedly uncharacteristic of the loud and brash toddler, Lily gingerly lowered the shirt and nestled herself against her mother’s chest. “Mama no leave again. Please.”

Whatever was left of Kettle’s heart broke. She recognised the tone in her daughter’s voice - it was the same one she herself had used when  _ begging _ her own mother not to leave all those years ago. It hadn’t worked then - her mother ran off with that sailor, and she’d never seen her again. The abandonment _ shattered _ her - it had taken  _ years _ to recover. The circumstances weren’t exactly the same, but the effects could very well be. 

It was then that Kettle made her decision. There was no choice, really. She loved being a Grey, but she loved her family more. She shared a meaningful glance with Apple, before refocusing her attention on her daughter. “No, little one. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you - with both of you.”

“Good,” said Lily, smiling contentedly. 

Apple looked at her, something odd in her eyes. It was like she hoped Kettle’s words were true but couldn’t quite bring herself to believe them. “Are you sure?” she asked, “You love being a Grey.”

“I love the two of you more. I can’t keep doing this to you.” The truth of her words struck her as she spoke them and she grew more and more confident that she was doing the right thing. 

“But what will you do?” Apple pressed. 

“Become a Holy, I suppose. I could work in the scriptorium, or the library. Always liked pottering around there in between missions.”

“I believe I have a possible solution to your problem,” said a voice at the door. Abbess Rule - Kettle had been so absorbed in her family that she hadn’t noticed her come in. 

Lily sat up and grinned widely. “Rulie!” she said in greeting. ‘Abbess Rule’ was a bit beyond her conversational abilities - that, or she enjoyed vexing the other woman with the informality. 

The corner of Rule’s mouth twitched with amusement, but she gave no further acknowledgement of the nickname. “Miss Lily,” she said, facing the toddler and using a tone that was similar - albeit softer - to the one she used with novices. “Have you been working on those sums I gave you?”

Lily shook her head. “Busy,” she mumbled. 

Rule did her best to remain stern. “Keep at it, young lady. I’ll make a mathematician out of you yet.” She looked up at Kettle. “Glad to see you up, dear. You had us all worried. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, and I believe I have a solution. As you may be aware, Sister Quill has expressed her desire to cease teaching and retire to fully live as a Holy Sister. Her appointment to the position of Mistress Academia was never meant to be permanent, she agreed to take the role after I was made Abbess until I found a suitable replacement. I believe, and have believed for some time, that you would be the ideal candidate.”

A slow smile spread across Apple’s face. Kettle meanwhile blinked, stupefied. “W-wait,” she spluttered, “Me? Teach Academia? But I am -  _ was _ \- a Grey. I don’t have an Academic background. All I’m good for is killing people in the name of the Ancestor.”

Rule shook her head. “That quite simply isn’t true. You came top of Academia when you were a novice, and you’re one of the most intelligent people in this Convent. You’re patient and understanding - you won’t chastise a child for ignorance, or for asking questions. You’ve travelled all across the Empire - and further - in your missions for they Grey. I can’t think of anyone better qualified.”

Kettle felt a rush of affection for the other woman. She’d been her own Mistress Academia when she was a novice and filled her with a passion for learning that she still had to this day. On the face of it, this opportunity was perfect - it was something she could do within the Convent that she’d enjoy and also provide the Ancestor with a valuable service. Instead of killing His enemies in His name, she’d be teaching His disciples. She wouldn’t have to leave her home or her family again. Still though, a part of her hesitated. 

Apple must have noticed her uncertainty. She squeezed her hand, hard. “I think you’ll be great at this,” she said. “You taught Nona to read all those years ago, and have done the same for several novices since. You’re the smartest person that I know. You can do this.”

“Mama smart,” said Lily helpfully. She was still nestled into her side. 

Rule’s determination broke and she let out a laugh. “There we have it. Right from the mouth of a babe. So, Sister - what do you say? Do you accept my offer?”

Kettle thought about it. Now that the idea had been planted in her mind, she could picture herself in the Academia classroom. She may not be a conventional appointment, but she thought she just might be able to make it work. “Yes,” she said, hoping to banish her previous hesitation. “I do.”

Rule smiled, as if she’d been certain that this would come to pass. She clapped her hands together a single time in celebration. “Excellent. Once you’re recovered, I’ll see you in my office to discuss your schedule and lesson plans. Congratulations, Mistress Academia.”

Lily clapped her hands in imitation of Abbess Rule, but she did not seem to know the reason. She stopped listening to the adult’s conversation, and focused instead on much more basic needs. “Mamas,” she said, striving to make herself heard, “I’m hungry.”

* * *

Kettle watched the novices stream into the classroom. She was filled with both nervousness and excitement in almost equal measure - this would be her first lesson, after several weeks of preparation. She’d met with Rule a number of times to discuss the curriculum and share lesson plans. Apple had also tried to help, but a lot of her advice seemed to boil down to having a number of lethal poisons on hand to slip to misbehaving novices. As much as she may tease her lover for her tendency to poison her students, it was something that made sense for Shade - she was trying to teach them to identify and avoid toxins on their own, after all. It wouldn’t fly in Academia - and besides, she wanted to be a different kind of teacher. 

She wanted to help these girls, to teach them all that she knew. She wanted to be someone they could look to for help and advice, someone who wouldn’t turn them away if they were confused about something or had questions. Sweet Mercy had changed a lot since the battle - this was obvious as she took in the bright, young faces of her current crop of Red class students. The Abbess had recruited Giljohn and others gifted in identifying descendants of the tribes, and they had travelled all across Abeth in their search. They’d been warned not to be discerning about social class when doing that - and, as a result, there were fewer Sis scions in front of her now and far more girls of working-class backgrounds, born to no one of particular note. A couple of them were from the Verity orphanage that they’d originally intended to send Lily to - Sweet Mercy petitioned the High Priest for control of the institution, and after Nona had saved them all, he’d had no real choice but to grant them their request. By all accounts, the children were much better cared for now, and some of the older girls were inducted into Red class. It was the only chance that many of them would get for a decent education, and she intended to make it as good as it could possibly be. 

She smiled at the girls. “My name is Sister Kettle, and I am your new Mistress Academia. Today, we will be turning our attention to geography -”

A skinny girl in an ill-fitting habit raised her hand. Kettle turned her head towards her. “Yes?” she asked, voice patient.

“‘Ent you a Grey Sister? My ma said there’s a Grey Sister up at the Convent called Kettle and she’s killed men all ‘cross the Empire.” She spoke with a strong Verity accent. Likely, she was the daughter of a merchant. 

“Very true. I  _ was _ a Sister of Discretion, but Abbess Rule offered me the chance to teach you novices and I couldn’t refuse her. May I ask your name?”

“They call me Vara,” she said, growing in confidence. “How comes you gave up being a Grey? I’d’ve thought travelling all those places and killing the church’s enemies would’ve been really cool.”

Kettle smiles mysteriously. “It was cool. Once I - with the help of a friend - assassinated a Sis Lord his own bedroom.” Vara - and a significant portion of her classmates - looked impressed. “Another time, I spied unnoticed on agents of the Inquisition within Sweet Mercy’s very walls. But as I grew older, my priorities shifted. I thought I would be of more use to the Ancestor here, teaching his disciples all they need to know to get on in the world.”

It wasn’t strictly the truth, but her students didn’t need to know the ins-and-outs of her personal life. Doubtless, the Convent gossip cycle would fill them in soon enough, anyway. “Now, if there aren’t any further questions -” she quickly scanned the faces of the assembled novices. None of them looked like they were bursting to ask anything. “-Then we’ll continue with the lesson. Who can tell me what geography is?”

* * *

Kettle left the Academia classroom after the lesson ended, feeling proud of how things had progressed. She’d made no major mistakes, and the novices seemed to absorb most of what she was saying. Some had even answered some of the questions she’d posed - Vara, in particular, was particularly eager to impress. 

She wanted to find Apple and let her know how everything went. As far as Kettle knew, she didn’t have any lessons this afternoon so she was probably entertaining Lily somewhere. It was snowing - a somewhat rare occurrence in Abeth. Despite the ever-coldening climate, instances of snow were infrequent. No one really knew why - it was certainly common on the Ice, but seldom seen this far inland. She had a sneaking suspicion of where they’d be. 

Sure enough, she found them in the courtyard. The area was usually a pleasant green outdoor space where novices met up to socialise in between classes. Today, it was blanketed in a thick layer of snow that, judging by the frequency at which it was still falling, would only grow over time. It was bitterly cold, but no one seemed to care - novices of all ages ran around hurling snowballs at one another, while others were building intricate-looking snow forts. 

Apple and Lily were in the corner. The two-year-old, with the assistance of her mother, was in the process of making a snowman. She was wearing thick clothes and even thicker gloves, as well as a hat and scarf. Even this could not disguise the undiluted joy on her face - Kettle quickly cast her mind back. The last time it had snowed like this, Lily would have been far too young to remember. 

They hadn’t noticed her yet. Kettle would tease Apple about this later, but the other woman seemed wholly immersed in the admittedly gargantuan task of preventing Lily from hurting herself with the rocks she was carrying to decorate the snowman with. 

Kettle cleared her throat, and they both turned around to face her. “Mama!” Lily said happily. “Look! Me and Mama make snowman!”

“I can see that. It’s very good! Does it have a name?”

“Lily!” said Lily. 

Kettle had to stifle a laugh. Lily had only recently mastered the art of pronouncing her own name, so now she named everything Lily in order to compensate. “Well then, shall we make snow-Lily two snow-mamas, so she won’t be lonely?”

Lily nodded enthusiastically, clapping her hands together. “Here,” said Apple, tossing her a pair of gloves that she’d been keeping in her heavy coat. “Lily takes her snowmen very seriously. We might be here all afternoon. Can’t have you getting frostbite. You can tell me how this morning went later.”

They did in fact spend the rest of the afternoon making a snow family. Not content with merely making snow effigies of herself and her mothers, Lily insisted on making replicas of her Aunties Ara and Nona, as well as their cats. Kettle couldn’t say she minded - this was the kind of thing she’d been missing out on when she’d been on prolonged missions. Lazy afternoons in the company of her partner and daughter - she couldn’t think of anything better. Lily looked  _ so  _ happy - in the beginning, they’d both fretted that they wouldn’t be able to give her the life she deserved. Days like this did a lot to prove their past selves wrong - she had two parents who loved her dearly, as well as a roof over her head and food in her belly. She could do a lot worse. 

The activity was enough to completely wipe her out. They put her to bed after dinner, and she fell asleep not thirty seconds into her story. 

“We got really lucky, didn’t we,” said Apple as she watched their daughter sleep. 

“Yeah,” replied Kettle as she pressed a kiss to her forehead and tucked her in all nice and warm, “We really did.” It was strange to think about the circumstances that led to them becoming parents - if things had happened differently, if Lily’s mother had decided to leave her somewhere else or decided to keep her for herself, then it would never have happened. Kettle sensed the Ancestor’s hand in it. 

They made their way to their chambers, where Apple prepared some mulled wine. One distinct advantage of living in Sweet Mercy was that they had access to some really incredible alcohol. “Here,” she said, handing her a glass. “That should warm you up. I know I’m fucking freezing. I was out there for at least an hour before you came along.”

Kettle took a sip and almost instantly felt refreshed. “I commend you for your service,” she said sarcastically. “She did look happy, though. I’m really glad I was there for it.”

Apple smiled softly. Everything about her was soft when it came to Lily - as icy as the persona she presented to the world was, it melted around their daughter. “She did. We haven’t done badly, all in all. But tell me - how was your class? Poison anyone for me?”

“ _ No _ , I didn’t poison anyone. I was just doing basic geography with them. It seemed to sink in, a lot of them were interested in what I was telling them. Some even asked questions.”

Apple nodded. “A good sign. But how did it make you feel? Do you think this is going to be a good fit for you? I know you enjoyed being a Grey, I don’t want you to be unhappy on our account.”

Kettle thought for a moment. “It made me feel...like I was doing something valuable. To tell you the truth, even aside from missing you and Lily, killing target after target was getting dull. I think I was ready for a new challenge. I can picture myself doing this, I think. A lot of those girls are like how me and you and Nona were when we first joined - poor, uneducated peasant girls. I want to make sure they’re given the chances we were given.”

Apple kissed her. Her lips tasted like the mulled wine - she imagined her own were the same. “I love you,” she said, “You’ve always been the best of us.”

“I love you more. And I  _ heavily _ dispute that.”

“Mmmmmmm,” said Apple, fiddling with the strap that kept Kettle’s habit together. “I think you’ll have to present your case more clearly. I’ve got a few ideas for how you could do that.”

Kettle grinned. “That can be arranged.”


End file.
